


You Should Probably Stay

by malikech



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-19
Updated: 2014-11-19
Packaged: 2018-02-26 07:46:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2643851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/malikech/pseuds/malikech
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Watching you get dressed messes with my head."</p>
<p>Harry won't let Niall leave, just yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Should Probably Stay

He could hear a rumbling wave of screams crashing against the curtained window as he got dressed, brief snatches that rose to a crescendo every time they saw a twitch of movement that might, just _might_ be Harry looking out of his window, or leaving the hotel. Tugging his boxers on, Niall glanced at the bed where an unceremonious bundle of blankets denoted the location of the illustrious Harry Styles. One arm poked out of the pile, the hand draped out over the side of the bed.

His jeans were hanging on the headboard. Niall crossed the room and scooted around Harry’s outstretched hand, grabbing the jeans and tugging them on quickly, giving his hips a little wiggle.

“Hm, shake it,” a sleepy voice murmured from the bed. Niall tried to hide his grin, but continued to wiggle his arse as he tugged the skinny jeans up and fastened them. Harry slowly sat up in bed, his impressive bedhead emerging before anything else. The blankets pooled around his waist and he stretched, his tattoos twisting on his skin.

“You off already?” he asked in his slow, unhurried voice. His eyes were half-shut with sleep. It was very early, 5 o’clock in the morning to be exact. Niall was impressed at the dedication of Harry’s fans to be out this early… if they’d gone home last night, that is.

It had been four years since the X Factor. Niall and Harry had been close friends at boot camp, and then Harry was selected for judges’ houses and Niall was sent back to Mullingar. There had been brief talk about forming a band, but in the end Harry had been chosen to go it alone. He had made it as far as the finals, coming third. They had stayed in touch for the last four years, despite Harry’s sudden propulsion to worldwide fame, steeped in rumours of sordid affairs with women twice his age, stalked by teenagers wherever he went, performing worldwide as Simon Cowell tugged the strings of his money making machine.

Niall couldn’t really remember when the friendship had turned into sex, but ever since that moment, he had only ever seen Harry within the confines of a hotel room. When they were just friends, Harry had almost showed him off, as if to say “Look at my non-famous friend, look how down to earth I am with my _normal_ friend”. Now, they were never seen in public together. Niall had moved to London shortly after X Factor, finding work as part of a band that performed at functions, weddings and the sort, and whenever he was free, he visited Harry at his various hotels around the UK. There were a lot of train journeys, and a lot of expenses incurred (which Harry always offered to pay but Niall refused), all to spend one more secret night with Harry Styles.

Now, Niall tugged his t-shirt on and started packing his rucksack. He always left early – Harry would arrange for the hotel to let him leave via the staff entrance so as not to arouse the suspicions of the press.

He heard rustling behind him as Harry slid out of bed, and then felt his tall presence behind him. He zipped his rucksack up and then turned to face his lover. Harry towered over him, his long hair tumbling down to his shoulders. A large hand grasped Niall’s upper arm firmly.

“It’s the weekend. I have _nothing_ scheduled. Stay.”

Niall shrugged out of Harry’s grip. The temptation was huge, but he was trying hard to make sure that the line between relationship and booty call was still firmly drawn in the sand. Harry didn’t have time for a boyfriend, nor would his publicity team allow it, so it was best for Niall to just push his feelings down and make sure Harry knew it was strictly sex.

“I’ve got to catch my train,” he murmured, picking up his rucksack and pulling it onto his shoulder. “If I don’t leave now I’ll get stuck in the crowds outside.” He nodded his head at the window, where the ebb and flow of screams continued.

Harry stepped forward and slid the rucksack off Niall’s shoulder. They were practically chest to chest. Niall was very aware that Harry was completely naked.

“I’ll change your ticket,” Harry said, his voice thick with sleep and sex. His rough fingers played up Niall’s arm and along his collarbone, sweeping around his neck before catching him under the chin and forcing him to look Harry in the eye. “One weekend, just the two of us. Please.”

Niall swallowed. He wanted to say yes, so badly. “In the room? For the whole weekend?”

“Sure. We can order room service and fuck and watch movies and do nothing important.” Harry pushed a strand of blond hair away from Niall’s face, nudging his hips against Niall’s stomach.

“And then I’ll sneak out the back again and nobody will ever know about Harry Styles’ little fuck toy?” The words were out before Niall could stop them. He’d never challenged Harry about their arrangement before, but he was losing patience with all the secrecy now.

Harry took a step back, looking surprised and a little hurt. “Niall? You know my publicity team won’t let me have a relationship. If things were different, if… if I wasn’t famous, we wouldn’t have to do all this.”

“We don’t have to go public,” Niall said, feeling bratty but determined to get it out. “I just want… I want my friend back. I want to be able to walk down the street with you, I want to see you in natural light instead of hotel bedside lamps, I want people to know that I exist!”

Harry was regarding him silently, his hands hanging loose at his sides as he had no pockets to shove them into. When he didn’t respond right away, Niall picked his bag up again. “I guess that’s too much to ask of the famous Harry Styles. Let me know when you’re in London.”

He started towards the door, but that large hand closed on his wrist this time, and then Harry spun him around and shoved him against the wall. Niall was painfully aware of how much shorter he was than Harry as he felt his wrists pinned either side of his head.

“If we go out in public together,” Harry said, leaning down and nuzzling his face into Niall’s neck, “I would never be able to keep my hands off you. People would notice. Simon would murder me.” He nipped at the soft flesh of Niall’s throat, making him gasp. Harry’s bare cock was pressed flush against Niall’s crotch, grinding on the denim. “I’d end up fucking you right on the street. The papers would love it but I doubt my fans would.”

Niall was starting lose cognitive function. He was already shamefully hard, his skinny jeans feeling like a vice on his straining cock.

“So until I learn to control myself,” Harry continued, peppering light nips and kisses up to Niall’s ear, “You’re my dirty little secret, Horan.” And to close the discussion, he kissed Niall, hard, his tongue invading Niall’s mouth possessively. And it was so easy to let him. To kiss him back and let their voices mist together in grunts and moans. There was something niggling at the back of Niall’s mind, telling him to stop, that this was exactly what he didn’t want, but then Harry was releasing one wrist to reach down and unbutton his jeans, and that thought was washed away with a fresh wave of screams from outside.

“Nn, Harry…” he groaned, breaking the kiss to look down as Harry pulled his cock out and started jerking it shallowly. Harry pressed their foreheads together and then slipped his own dick into his fist beside Niall’s, rocking his hips lightly and sliding his hand up and down, his thumb glancing over the head of Niall’s cock and smearing precome in a tingling streak. Harry’s forehead was hot, starting to bead with sweat, their panting breaths ghosting on each other’s faces, and Niall was thrusting up into Harry’s hand-

And then Harry pulled away.

“You could probably still make your train, if you ran,” he said, smirking, and turned towards the bed, and that’s when Niall tackled him and they fell in a laughing heap on the bedspread.

“Shut up and get on with it, eejit!”

“Yes _sir_.”

Niall was flipped on his stomach and pushed to all fours, his jeans pulled down far enough to be getting on with, and then he was bracing his arms on the headboard with a moan as he felt Harry’s talented tongue between his cheeks, swiping over and around his hole and spreading the remnants of the lube that still lingered there from earlier.  
“Like that?” Harry mumbled between licks, his hand creeping forward to encircle Niall’s cock again, jerking it off efficiently as he probed his tongue into the tight ring of muscle and pressed his lips against the puckered skin.

“Yeah… ah! Harry…” Niall was practically grinding his ass into Harry’s face now, his moans escalating until they echoed off the walls and Harry squeezed his cock in warning, sitting up and lining the head of his dick against Niall’s hole.

“Be quiet, Nialler. Or you won’t get fucked.” He released Niall’s cock and pushed gently against his hole, teasing.

Niall grabbed the nearest pillow and buried his face in it, and when Harry grasped his hips and slid smoothly into him, like he had done a hundred times before, the pillow swallowed only part of his scream. Harry thrust in up to the hilt, paused for the briefest of times, his nails drawing red trails over Niall’s lower back almost thoughtfully, and then he started a quick rhythm that was punishing to Niall’s self-control, his voice getting louder and louder with each smack of Harry’s balls against his perineum.

And then Harry started to make noises of his own and self-control went out of the window into the screaming crowds below. Because when Harry started to moan, that’s when you knew it was good. Niall pulled his face from the pillow and craned his neck to look over his shoulder, wanting to take in Harry’s expression. His eyes were screwed tightly shut, lower lip caught between his teeth and cheeks flushed with exertion, hair curling around his face as a stream of grunts flew between his teeth. Niall’s breath caught in his throat, because really, Harry was exquisite to look at, and it was amazing to know that he was the only person who got to see this side of him, to see Harry swept up in his own emotions and pleasure and letting go.

Harry opened his eyes and caught Niall looking, and managed a smirk through his panting and grunting, and then his fingers redoubled their grip on Niall’s hips and he brought the pace to a frenetic level, and Niall was jerking himself off now, face back in the pillow with Harry’s name tumbling from his lips regardless, and when he came Niall arched his back and Harry clawed his nails down it, come spurting over the already stained sheets.

“Shit, Niall, _shit_ ,” Harry gasped, slamming into Niall’s ass for a full minute before pulling out at the last second to come all over Niall’s back in hot jets that seared his skin and marked Harry’s territory.

And it was over.

They collapsed on the bed beside each other, chests heaving, and Harry pulled him close to press their foreheads together again. One large hand was woven into the hair at the base of Niall’s scalp.

“Fuck,” Niall groaned softly, and Harry hummed in agreement, lips flushed as he panted. Gradually, their breathing evened out, and Niall felt his thoughts clouding together, half soaked in sex and interwoven with random observations, like how Harry’s stomach twitched as he recovered from his orgasm, and his face was smooth and content, close to sleep, and his hair was soft and tangled in Niall’s fingers.

They dozed, wanting to fall asleep but being kept on the edge by the clamour of fans outside. And eventually, it was Harry who sat up with a reluctant whine and started to get dressed, this time. And it was Niall’s turn to lie in bed, watching him.

“Don’t go,” he mumbled. He didn’t care if they stayed in the room all weekend, hell, they could _live_ there for all he cared. He just didn’t want Harry to be the one to leave.

Harry pulled his jeans on and then walked around the bed, turning on Niall’s bedside lamp. “Fancy McDonald’s? There’s one around the corner?”

Niall sat up, scratching his head. He was relieved that Harry wasn’t leaving but a little bewildered by the sudden change in mood. “Uh… sure, I’ll have a Big Mac.”

“Get it yourself, you’re coming with me.” Harry turned and fished a brightly patterned shirt out from under the bed and slung it on, before crossing to the window and spreading the curtains wide. Niall had to cover his ears at the screams that thundered through the room despite the double glazing. Harry stood in the morning sunlight, his shirt open, hair mussed up and a giant grin on his face, waving at the sea of faces that greeted him.

“C’mon Niall, don’t sit there all day. And you should probably change your train ticket.”

**Author's Note:**

> So, just a little introduction. I'm malikech, and I'm relatively new to the 1D fandom. I used to write for other fandoms under a different alias, and was quite popular within those fandoms, but this was a couple of years back and my writing style has changed a lot. I am dragging myself from the depths of writers block and this was more an exercise in grabbing inspiration when it presents itself, in this case in the form of "Change Your Ticket" from the album FOUR. I actually wouldn't write narry as my first choice (I'm a zarry girl at heart), but when I heard the song, it just felt more natural to write narry.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy.


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